Chapter Nine: Barrels out of Bond
The wood-elves made short work of relieving the company of their prized weapons, some more than others, however not one among them could part Anvil with its sleeping-walking mistress, as they refused to allow either of the company to carry either Bombur or Pipp. While Bombur was very much awake as the company was being led, Hitch struggled to keep up along with motioning for Pipp's hooves could find the ground, to his pleasure rather than chagrin.
"Keep up, we don't want to fall behind," he whispered.
"Yes, just give me two and I'll call you back in the morning," she dreamily sighed.
The wood-elves led the company in single file right through the great gates, and into a great cavern: the entire Woodland Realm was built into the mountainside cavern, hewn with architecture lined with either straight-up trees and bark, or mimicking the architecture of a tree. There was elegance to be found, as all elves provide and present, but it was not Rivendell, that is to say it did not feel homely.
"Holo in ennyn," the captain called, right before the great doors slammed shut.
Only now did the ponies understand and confirm why their suspicions about the Woodland Realm was vastly different to Rivendell: it was not homely, but closed off; trapped. Their captors led them all over twisting bridges, stable but nowhere near safe or feasible. And just for good measure, now the dwarves were only clothed in their simple shirts, trousers, boots, and gloves for those who had them.
Eventually, one by one, the company was forcibly shoved into a jail cell.
"This is not end of it, you hear?!" Dwalin growled.
"Let us out of here!" Gloin cried.
"Get off of...!" Dori snapped.
They were all positioned to where they could at least talk to each other, but mostly it was each dwarf per cell. That is not to say that there were some pairings: Oin and Gloin, Dori and Ori, Sunny and Izzy, and Hitch and Pipp; the latter of which simply walked in still sleeping on her hooves. Fili on the other hand had yet another and the final hidden dagger removed.
Immediately as the guards vacated the premises, the dwarves began grunting and furiously kicking at their cell doors.
"Leave it! There's no way out!" Balin cried, calming the futile escape attempts. "This is no orc dungeon; these are the halls of the Woodland Realm. No one leaves here but by the king's consent."
"Say what you want about the wood-elves, at least they provide adequate service," Zipp remarked rather dryly.
The dwarves were not exactly put at ease, neither Zipp, Sunny, nor Hitch, especially at the loss of their most beloved weapons. Presently, they noticed that Thorin was not present among the jailed this time, and right as they did they heard his voice from right above in the throne space.
"You lack all honor!" he screamed. "I've seen how you treat your friends. We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help, but you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us! Imrid amrad ursul!"
Whatever Thorin said must have provoked the king enough. "Stay here if you will, and rot," he declared. "A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I am patient. I can wait."
Soon enough, Thorin was placed in the last cell, and the jailer walked off too wherever was the furthest down into the depths of the kingdom.
"Did he offer you a deal?" Balin asked.
"He did," Thorin smirked. "I told him he could go 'Ish kakhfê ai'd dur rugnu!' Him and all his kin!"
Balin sighed in great frustration. "Well...that's it, then. A deal was our last hope."
"Don't say that yet," Sunny assured. "Don't forget, we're down a burglar."
Thorin did feel reassured by her words, remembering how Bilbo had somehow managed to escape both the goblin tunnels and the spiders, so what was to stop him from working his hobbit-miracles once more? Perhaps he had been too harsh on Bilbo in the past; after all, he at once refused to part with the company even after he had practically influenced him to do so. Just where was the little burglar now?
"Well," Hitch sighed. "This is a fine predicament, if I do say so myself."
"Mmm...sooo soft...and waaaarm," Pipp sighed, still in her state and caressing her head against Hitch's neck. Not only did it feel uncomfortable, but he also felt something pounding in his stomach.
"Eh...you, uh...okay?" he stuttered.
"Oh, yes, he's okay. Airheaded, stubborn, egotistical...just like me, and also kind, strong, strong-willed, and loyal to his friends."
By now the atmosphere was becoming more than mushy, embarrassingly so enough that Hitch was worried about the others watching and listening in, and worse even some eavesdropping wood-elf.
"I, uh...think the light's making you dizzy," he stammered.
"Oh...I am nothing but, and he does not mind it either. Of course, it's not really the shine of the light that matters, really."
When he thought that the others could not seem them from back in their corner, Hitch began nervously holding her close, gently caressing her mane and blushing as she wrapped her wing around him.
"He's also so handsome as well...and brave."
"Is he rich?" Hitch asked, rather nervously.
"Not...by any means. He's a small town pony, modestly paid, and...humble, or been humbled."
"Who...humbled him?"
"One fateful night, when the big lie was exposed...but there he was in the crowd. Not belonging by any means, but..." she sighed dreamily. "Perhaps there was something about him that caught me differently...even if...he had no wings."
It did not feel right, with her being in her state, and yet he had not noticed how sweet she was, nor how much she actually cared for him. One of his greatest fears, one of many a self-doubting stallion, no different to himself: would she relay my affections? Would she love me back? Am I good enough for her?
But the moment they shared lips of passion, all worries melted out his heart, and she then went soft, like she was accepting his offer of affections. Now both wings were softly wrapped around him, and both pairs of forehooves embraced the other affectionately. No misery of any kind was shared, just simply the love across the plain of indifference.
When he did let go, she stood bedazzling for a moment, still but soft in his hooves. Then, she opened her eyes, and he smiled.
"Wh-wha-what happened? Hitch?" she asked softly
"You fell asleep back in the forest," he replied, echoing her softness as he awkwardly stood. "Right now we are in the capture of the wood-elves."
"All of us?"
"Say for Bilbo, again."
"Hitch?"
"Yes?"
It was in this moment that Pipp Petals, princess of Zephyr Heights and Lady under the Mountain, removed her faithful Anvil and placed it gently in the nearest corner. It understood its mistress' motive, and obediently obliged.
"Please...hold me."
"Uh..."
"If...you don't mind it, that is."
"You're...unsure?"
"Aren't you?"
"Fair enough."
They approached each other again, this time both of right mind when they embraced. It was as if the gated walls of the Woodland Realm melted down to cooled magma, and they became lost in a dream, happy and free for and with each other.
"This place is not as beautiful as I hoped," Izzy bluntly stated.
"Anything you did?" Sunny smirked.
"Wonderous music and fare elves, but I've heard or seen not an ounce."
"As my dad once said to me, 'If your have a heart, you have a hope.' Or was it the other way around?"
"Well, I have a heart to escape, and see the Mountain."
"I do as well, and I hope to. Perhaps we will, if in an effort to see Maretime Bay once again."
Outside in the late evening, the orc pack from just two days before had reached the gates of the Woodland Realm, after a rest up and passage granted from the spiders.
"The gates are guarded," one of the orcs said, in the black speech.
"Shugi golgai. Tud-dad nu!" their leader replied, right before hiking off with the rest of the pack following close behind him. While he also spoke only the black speech, his words roughly translate in the common tongue to: "Not all of them. Follow me!"
The company all still sat idly in their cells, hopes fading and dimming while the magical light fixtures had not even contemplated the thought.
"I'll wager the sun is on the rise," Bofur groaned. "Must be nearly dawn."
"Here I was hoping for a calm and satisfying rainstorm," Zipp frowned.
"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori wavered.
True, the company had only been imprisoned for an entire afternoon to evening to waxing dawn, but the bonds of metal barred incarceration are something that should not be taken so lightly, for even a single evening is enough to break a spirit, three if it is unlucky enough.
"Not stuck in here, you're not!" came the whisper of a most familiar voice.
The company looked up to see, in gasping excitement, the one and only Bilbo Baggins jangling the jail keys in his hand. Zipp looked down to see him slip something back into his pocket, but she was so grateful to see him alive and well that she dared not dwell on the matter at hoof.
"Bilbo!" Balin cried in admiration.
"Bilbo, you're back!" Hitch smiled.
"Shh!" he hissed. "There are guards nearby!"
One by one Bilbo made his way up and across the dungeons unlocking each door until every last of the company was out in the open and more than ready to vacate up from the depths.
"The stairs," Dwalin whispered. "Ori, you first."
"I'll be right behind you," Pipp whispered back.
"Not that way. Down here, follow me," Bilbo beckoned.
Trusting his judgement, and following behind Bombur, the company as silent as they could make themselves huffed and trotted down further into the depths of the Woodland Realm behind the smallest and most stealthily Bilbo. When the arrived to where he beckoned as their final destination, it is an understatement to say that they were more than confused and peeved.
"I don't believe it; we're in the cellars!" Kili hissed angrily.
"You're supposed to be leading us out, not further in!" Bofur added.
"I like wine as much as the next pony," Pipp put in. "But now you're just pulling our hooves, and legs!"
"I know what I'm doing!" Bilbo raised his voice.
"Shh!" she shushed.
"This way."
He led them past where the jailer and the head butler were sleeping soundly on the table, surrounded by empty bottles of wine, to where an evenly stack of empty open barrels were piled right in the middle of the room.
"Everyone, climb into the barrels, quickly!"
"What do you hope to accomplish for us with this?" Zipp mused. "A headache and a half?"
"Are you mad?!" Dwalin huffed angrily. "They'll find us!"
"No, no, they won't, I promise you. Please, please, you must trust me!"
The company, besides Thorin who stood next to Bilbo, gathered together for another whispered discussion, while Bilbo stood impatiently worried in his hobbit-feet.
"Do as he says," Thorin declared, breaking up the brain-trust.
"If both Thorin and Bilbo say so," Izzy thought aloud. "Then it must be foolproof!"
"Perhaps not Izzy-proof," Hitch mumbled under his breath.
Per Bilbo's plan, the dwarves each all hobbled into one barrel each, while Zipp and Pipp, and Sunny and Izzy each shared a barrel. However, with the sounds of footsteps rushing anxiously upstairs, Bilbo had no time to fasten the lids, and checking over each barrel as much as he could he stood by a lever fastened into the floor just up from the stack's forward end.
"Now what do we do, Bilbo?" Sunny asked.
"Hold your breath," he replied.
"Hold me breath? What do you mean?" Bofur asked, right before Bilbo pilled the lever and the floor tipped up to reveal a trapdoor, causing the stack of barrels to roll one by one down through the trapdoor before splashing into the river cutting through the underground caves, right beneath the Woodland Realm.
As each barrel resurfaced, they moved out the way for the next to come splashing down.
"FBBSHT!" Izzy spat. "What a clever plan, Bilbo!"
"PAH!" Zipp spluttered. "I think I swallowed some of the water, and it tastes salty."
"Speaking of which, where'd he go this time?" Hitch resurfaced.
"I think he forgot himself this time around," Pipp gasped.
Almost on cue, the trapdoor opened right above them and Bilbo came flopping backside first right into the river waters. Thorin had insisted on waiting up for their burglar.
"Well done, Master Baggins!" he smiled, and this time it was of genuine admiration.
Bilbo could only splutter out the word, "go" before the company swam through the tightened ravine. Each barrel used their hands or hooves as makeshift paddles, following Thorin's stead, until they reached the opening to the sunlight, right to a waterfall.
"Hold on!" Thorin cried.
"What for? Oh!" Izzy yelped.
The barrels were rushed right down the falls, catching the momentum of the rapids as they tossed the barrels about in the rushing waters, sending them all where they could only do so: downstream.
"Hold on, Bilbo!" Hitch yelled as Bilbo fought to clung to the barrel through the rapids.
Presently, a horn rang out from right behind them, and the elves guarding the sluice heard the call immediately heaving a great lever that closed the heavy metal gates of the sluice, trapping the barrels right under the mechanized bridge.
"Oh, bother," Hitch remarked under his breath.
With many grunts and groans the barrels all piled into each other blocking whatever little slivers of the current were left passing through the cracks of the barrels.
"OOPHF!" Sunny grunted. "Now what?"
"I think I saw one of the elves activate this gate with a lever up top," Zipp said. "I'll take care of it."
"Wait!" Pipp stopped her. "Be careful."
"I always am."
"Watch out!" Bofur cried. "There's orcs!"
The pack had camped in the woods right at the sluice, under the pretense that that was the escape way the dwarves would take, and their hunch, or their leader's hunch, paid off with great profit. Many an ambushed elf was slain, and orc as well, and every one of them fell with a splash into the waters drenching and soaking the company. Some brave orcs decided to go right for the company: Dwalin elbowed one into the river, Bilbo stabbed another with Sting, and Pipp did what she could while staying cool with herself, blocking a particularly nasty swing from an orc club which instead sent the orc in question splashing right between Fili and Gloin.
With that, Zipp hopped gracefully from her barrel, only to duck out the way from orc archers. The elves were certainly caught off guard from the ambush, even with her ducking and weaving her way through the chaos.
"Zipp!" Dwalin called, before throwing a dead orc's blade right to her.
She caught it gracefully, cutting down the nearest orc as she fought up the steps. Fili then threw his actual last hidden dagger at an orc ready to spear Zipp clean through, giving her ample time to reach the lever. However, the pack leader had been intently watching Zipp's movements, less admired and more calculating. He kept his arrow brandished, and seeing that she was close to pulling the lever he fired it right at her, striking her dead-center in the calf of her rear-right leg. She stopped right below the mechanism, frozen in shock.
"Zipp!" Pipp cried in shock.
Zipp did not falter just yet, and using her strength she pulled on the lever right before dropping in wincing pain. The sluice opened right up and a few barrels had already rushed out, but Pipp held out until her sister dropped right in beside her, snapping the shaft of the arrow right off.
"Zipp, are you alright?!" she gasped.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," Zipp sighed, clearly underplaying. "Dwalin, catch!"
She threw the taken sword right back to Dwalin, who caught it right as his barrel was the last to be taken by the rushing rapids. By now they had all lost control of their destination, meaning the current of the river was its own guide, much to the disorientation of the company.
"Hold on...Bilbo!" Hitch cried as their barrel was briefly sunk and resurfaced in the rapids.
"Bombur, look out!" Sunny cried before crashing right into Bombur's barrel.
"How many waterfalls does this river need?!" he gasped for air, after dumping down the fourth.
While the others were not faring much better, even if Izzy was the only one enjoying the barrel-ride, their complications worsened as the orc pack rushed to close them off on all sides of the river. Most of them were experienced archers, even if they could only scrape and chip at the wood of the barrels, however now the elves were slaying them as they chased after the escaping company. Thorin slew one that jumped right at him with the sword Dwalin tossed to Izzy, who then tossed it to him.
Another orc leapt to Balin, but Thorin threw the sword right to its chest, pinning it to a thick tree branch as he caught its weapon of choice; being a spiked stick. He then tossed it to Dwalin, who then threw it to Nori, who then threw it to Izzy.
"Fili!" she called, right before tossing it to him, who then swung at the legs of an unlucky orc, sending it splashing into the rapids.
Another orc leapt to grab at the barrel of Zipp and Pipp, who butted the orc into the river with Anvil as she took its weapon; being an ax.
"Dwalin, catch!" she screamed at the might of the river, before tossing it to Dwalin as his barrel passed by.
Up ahead was a low-hanging tree spanning the length of the river, with many orc archers holding their positions.
"Cut the log!" Thorin cried.
He then used his weapon to swing a chop at the tree, before Bofur came up with another chop, followed by Dwalin's finishing blow as the tree split sending the orcs to drown in the rapids below. By now, Bilbo and Hitch ditched floating inside their barrel and were clinging helplessly onto its side. Just ahead however, a spear-wielding orc had its eyes fixated on Bombur.
"Bombur!" Dwalin cried as he tossed his own ax.
Bombur caught it right as the orc stuck its sharpened-end into his barrel, right before he axed it square in the chest, but an ill timed waterfall caught the orc and the shaft-end on another low-hanging tree. It catapulted his barrel onto a downward hill which rolled and battered the barrel, knocking a few orcs as he leapt across and back over the river, until he came to a full stop. The orcs closed in on him, but he then kicked out the bottom and began slicing through the orcs with the ax and spiked stick through sizable holes on either barrel-side. Eventually though he had to ditch the battered barrel.
"Bilbo!" Hitch cried. "We'll have to jump barrels!"
Bilbo leapt to clung to Dori's barrel while Hitch gripped tightly to the pegasi's barrel, smiling awkwardly up at Pipp, while Bombur jumped into the empty tossing his weapons to Dwalin and Nori respectively, who helped him resurface.
Along the elevated riverbanks, the elves were making short work of the gathered orc pack, while the company still barreled violently downstream. The elven captain from before then leapt lightly onto the heads of Dwalin and Dori, firing his arrows precisely to whatever orc caught his gaze. Zipp could only watch in amazed admiration as he hopped to one side of the river's embankments, not once losing his momentum as he then leapt across over the heads of grunting dwarves to the other embankment.
One moment he was busy making short work of some orcs, the next Zipp stared with worrying anticipation as another orc snuck behind him raising his sword to smite the elf, until he dropped dead after Thorin threw his weapon of a machete right into its chest. The elf captain locked eyes with Thorin, simply watching as the rapids carried the company off into the distance.
It took some time before the rushing current lost the company, but by the time they were, the current subsided and regained control of their barrels.
"Anything behind us?" Thorin called from the front
"Not that I can see," Balin responded.
"I think we've outrun the orcs," Sunny said.
"Not for long; we've lost the current," Thorin replied.
"Don't let go, Hitch," Pipp concerned. "Can you swim?"
"Not since I was a colt," he replied, spitting out excess water.
"Make for the shore! Come on, let's go!" Thorin called.
The company paddled their way to the shore, being a giant slab of rock jutting out like it was planted in the river. Bilbo and Hitch were the most soaked, having spent the majority clinging for dear life to the side and not inside a barrel.
"Come on," Dwalin grunted while hoisting Ori from his barrel.
Zipp limped out from her barrel and only made about five paces before dropping to her knees crying in pain, clutching her arrow wound as Bofur, Fili, Kili, and Pipp looked on worryingly.
"You okay?" Pipp asked.
"I told you, I'm fine," Zipp seethed.
"On your feet," Thorin ordered to the group.
"Zipp's wounded," Fili called back to his uncle. "Her leg needs binding."
"There's an orc pack on our tail; we keep moving."
"To where?" Balin butted in.
"To the mountain; we're so close," Bilbo responded.
"What makes you so sure?" Hitch interjected.
"I saw it from above the forest canopy."
"So that's where you went. Well, thanks for scouting ahead."
"A lake lies between us and that mountain," Balin interrupted. "We have no way to cross it."
"So then we go around," Hitch suggested.
"The orcs will run us down, as sure as daylight," Dwalin said gruffly. "We have no weapons to defend ourselves."
Thorin, the most anxious of them all, turned back to where the gathered group of Zipp sat patiently, with her clenching her teeth to fight the sting. "Bind her leg, quickly," he said at last. "You have two minutes."
"I suppose I'll be carrying you this time," Pipp joked.
"Oh, be off with you," Zipp chuckled, wincing as Kili finished his makeshift bind.
Ori meanwhile was emptying his boots of water, while unbeknownst to the others at the moment, a stranger approached from behind aiming his brandished arrow right for his head. Soon, the company caught wind of this stranger, just as Dwalin jumped before the stranger brandishing a large branch meaning to charge until the stranger shot and embedded the arrow smack in the its middle. Izzy then picked up a nearby stone with her magic, right before the stranger shot another arrow sending away the stone along with the arrow.
"Do it again," he threatened. "And you're dead.
The company stood in silence at the mercy of him: black-bearded, long-haired, equal height of an elf, but grim-faced instead of fare.
"Now, take it easy," Sunny stammered. "You have no reason to harm any of us. Are you an elf?"
The stranger turned to Sunny, not dropping his arrow, but instead picking up at the sight of a pony who could communicate in the common speech.
"I'm a man," he grunted. "I have no elf-blood in my veins."
Balin, who had been eying the tied-off barge behind the man, cautiously approached from behind Sunny.
"Let me handle this, lass," he whispered.
The man then focused his arrow towards Balin, who spoke. "Excuse me, but, uh, you're from Laketown, if I'm not mistaken?" he stammered. "That barge over there, it wouldn't be available for hire, by any chance?"
The man lowered his arrow, assured that the dwarves, ponies, and Bilbo meant no harm to his life, however he took great suspicion at Balin's proposal.